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In a meadow I have vanished |
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Between oaks and daisies |
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And the old and beloved grasshoppers |
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Sounds that embrace me |
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The wind chases the fragrance of morning |
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My days of obey |
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I breathe in the book all I'll ever be: |
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Out, floating, touching the yellow blood-flowers |
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To the beat of my, of my whisper |
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Shall I ever rise above |
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Make a detachment |
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So that the tweaks crack and the growing stocks |
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Get bowled up by the ruins? |
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The strength, the strength of this moment |
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Is like morning dew, morning dew |
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Drops that filled green veins like crystal-clear blood |
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And I wait all day who slept |
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In the meadow tonight |
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This cold night |
